


Dry July

by uglywombat



Category: Black Widow (Movie 2020), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Fingering, Lesbian Sex, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Sex Toys, Steve is a little pervy, lesbian couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:46:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25412608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uglywombat/pseuds/uglywombat
Summary: Your girlfriend Natasha is the HOTTEST thing to walk this planet. Your sex life is really good, scratch that, really fucking good. She’s kind, funny and caring, but then she’s also stubborn and competitive. Convinced to take part in a sexless Dry July bet, you’re on edge during the final countdown. Some bets are just worth breaking.
Relationships: Natasha Romanov (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s), Natasha Romanov (Marvel)/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 116





	Dry July

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request by crybabyanon for something along the lines of Natasha + daddy kink + desperate sex + toys. I hope this fits the brief x

Standing in front of the mirror, sweat already threatening to pool under the curve of your breasts thanks to the sweltering hot day, you criticize the obscenely short length of your shorts. The soft silk of your black camisole is buttery and sexy. The delicate French lace lining the crest of the garment highlights the curve of your breasts. 

It is too much. This is too...

“Well hot dang, you are spicier than sneaky sriracha shots in Steve’s coffee.” The low whistle that follows draws your eyes from the floor to ceiling antique mirror and to the hot brunette standing in the doorway. 

You roll your eyes as he bounces off of the door frame and saunters over to you like a graceful panther. Running your hands over the width of your hips you stare at yourself in the mirror, silently criticizing your choice of outfit. 

“Get out of your head, she’s going to love it,” Bucky says wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, drawing his eyes over your reflection in the mirror. “In fact, I bet you $100 you don’t last five minutes at the party and she’s dragging your deprived ass up here and rehydrating your Sahara oasis.”

Arching an eyebrow, you give him an incredulous look and untangle yourself from his arms. “There’s five hours and thirty-seven minutes left of Dry July, Bucko. Do you really think Nat is going to let you win? The woman has the determination of Drax with a jar of Nutella.” 

Bucky belly laughs before flopping down onto the bed. “Girl, please. You’re so desperate for a good vagging they can smell you down in the common room. I saw the way Nat was watching you at breakfast, she’ll crack before the party is over.”

Huffing, you move over to the dresser busying yourself reapplying your lip balm and giving yourself a final spritz of your favourite perfume. The one that drives your girlfriend insane - because that is your goal today. Come hell or high water, you are getting shagged tonight. 

Dry July had initially started as a joke. One particularly drunken Trivia Night, that had ended with Tony getting you all thrown out of the bar, Bruce had made the suggestion that some people (mostly Tony) should lay off of the alcohol. It hadn’t taken long for the idea of not drinking for a month to dissolve into a Dry July of sex. 

Easy right? An entire month of no sex. 

You’ve gone longer without, many lonely nights in your bed as Natasha galivants around the world saving humanity like the bass ass bitch she is, months at a time sometimes. But Dry July was so much more. 

No 

  * Sex
  * Wanking
  * Big O 
  * Teasing
  * Cybersex 
  * Phone sex 
  * Dry humping during movie night at the back of the common room
  * Fumbling between the sheets 
  * Sneaking off to the gym showers during lunch… 



Nat had been the one to sign you both up for the challenge in steely determination to take down Tony Stark. You’d begged and pleaded, getting on your knees in the middle of the common room, for her not to participate. No sex for a whole month? Why should you be punished because Iron Man is an asshole?

But, after some particularly convincing puppy dog eyes and a long-drawn-out three orgasms bent over Steve’s motorcycle, you conceded and agreed to be the most supportive girlfriend for July.

It has been the longest and most infuriating 31 days of your life. Of course, it doesn’t help that your girlfriend is the hottest, sexiest, most sultry creature to have walked this planet. Her fingers are magic; literal digits of wizardry that could have you melting in a matter of minutes. And her tongue? Jesus, Mary, Joseph… if you were not so good at your job Tony would have fired you long ago for the number of times you’ve been distracted in monthly planning meetings as Natasha has wrapped her dragon-like tongue around a pen or lollypop. 

Clint was the first to crack, on the second of July, quickly excusing himself during movie night after a particular scene in  **The Shape of Water** . Who knew he could be such a screamer? Bruce nobly took himself out of the race after meeting a beautiful woman in a bar who also happened to be a kick-ass surgeon and humanitarian and put everyone to shame. And Tony, well, Tony was disqualified for trying to tamper with the truthful tally.

And according to the truthful tally, aka FRIDAY being a creep, only Nat (and yourself) Bucky and Steve had lasted the entire month. Well, that is if you can keep your hands to yourself and not down the pants of a certain  blonde for another five hours and thirty-six minutes. And after a particularly steamy dream that had found you grinding up on Nat’s thigh in your sleep, it won’t be easy.

Frustrated with your idling and slow pace, Bucky grabs your hand and pulls you from the bedroom you’ve been sharing with Nat for the past six months. 

If you had felt uncertain about your outfit in front of the mirror, you are almost beside yourself with self-doubt as Bucky drags you outside into the blistering hot sun, the party raging on around you. You feel so exposed and on display as heads turn, eyes grazing over the bare mileage of your legs, the curve of your ass in the short shorts, and the swell of your breasts peeking through the soft silk. 

At that moment, you hate Bucky Barnes with every inch of your being. You should never have allowed him to drag you into the new French lingerie boutique during your usual Sunday afternoon stroll. Instead of standing stock still and gaping over the cost, your hands should have ripped the credit card from his hand as he dropped a near fortune on the camisole. 

And then you lock eyes with soft green orbs over the dessert table, her lip curves into a smirk and you immediately melt. The insecurities and doubt fade to nothing and you could honest to God kiss Bucky Barnes. He is a genius. 

Your smile grows as Natasha’s eyes slowly rake over your body and Bucky leans into you. “Told you so,” he hums before sauntering over to the barbeque where you can hear Tony and Steve argue over flipping techniques.

A little bubble of confidence and excitement swells in your belly as your girlfriend eye-fucks you from across the party. Alright, you could work with this. A small smirk plays on your lips as you make your way over to the bar, your eyes still secured on Natasha’s. Selecting a beer from the ice bucket, you lean against the bar and wrap your pouty lips around the bottle, slowly helping yourself to the chilled bitter liquid. Raising an eyebrow, your girlfriend raises five fingers and mouths ‘be patient’.

Be patient? 

Be patient?

She has got to be kidding, right? If you were anymore patient you would re-virginise and have to be deflowered all over again. No, you couldn’t be patient any longer. Fuck Tony and his stupid ego. 

Sulkily, you drain the beer before helping yourself to another and moving to mope over the dessert table. As you sluggishly stroll to grab a mini jam-filled donut, possibly the only thing you will be filled with for the rest of your life, a slender hand grips your wrist. 

“Don’t sulk, baby,” Natasha purrs into your ear, pressing into your back. “It’s only a couple more hours and I am going to give you the fuck of your life. Such a good girl, being so patient for me this past month.”

You whimper as her long magical fingers caress the curve of your thigh and you turn around to face her. The soft heart in your chest expands and melts as she locks eyes with you. “Nat, I’m going to die, I can’t wait any longer. I need sex.” Yes, you sound completely whiny and petulant but god damn she smells so good and her touch is literally singeing your skin. “I need to feel your fingers stretching me open and drilling me. I’m going to explode I need it so bad. I thought I could do this, but I can’t.”

The delicious, pouty, totally kissable lips before you smile warmly. “We’re almost there, precious, I promise. In four hours and fifty-seven minutes, I promise I am going to do all the filthy things to you. All of them. I just need you to wait a little longer because I’m not going to let that virgin Steve Rogers get the best of me.”

And with that, you watch the golden-haired love of your life meander away, her hips swaying from side to side with more enticement than your body can actually handle right now. You’re not going to survive the next four hours and fifty-six minutes. 

Four eclairs, three macarons, and more hot dogs than you care to admit to, you find yourself drowsily sitting on Nat’s lap. The heat is oppressive still, even as the sun has descended over the mountains some time ago, but it does little to hinder your desire for her touch. Her spicy perfume is still strong and her bob is soft against your fingers as her thumb lazily drags over your thigh, but she’s too focused on her conversation with Clint and Laura to notice you. Yes, you’re a raging cauldron of horniness but you are being on your best behaviour. 

“You look so beautiful,” Natasha hums, pulling you from your pillowy thoughts of her thighs locked around your head. “I heard Barnes helped you pick out this outfit. I’ll have to send him a gift hamper. Was it his idea for you to go without a bra?” You shake your head, pressing a heady kiss to her neck, savouring the salty warmth of her skin. “Wanted to show me what I’d been missing out on this month?” Her hand grips your thigh tightly as your lips find hers. “Trust me, I know. I can’t wait to take you apart later and piece you back together.”

A wispy gasp oozed from your lips as a surge of arousal danced through your core. “Please, Nat, I’m going to die if you don’t end this. Please. I will do anything.”

The blonde chuckles and kisses you fiercely. “I’ve thought of nothing else, baby, just a little…”

“Giving up so close to the end?” You both look to see Tony watching you both intently, a smirk playing on his drunk face. “What a shame. The steely Black Widow couldn’t keep it in her pants…”

Tony shuts his mouth as Nat gifts him one of her infamous glares, the kind that brings full-grown alpha-orientated men to their knees in a nano-second. The kind of look that could literally make you come untouched. Pointing his finger in the direction of the s’mores bar, the man behind Iron Man storms off. 

“Just a little while longer,” Nat promises, her hand cupping your cheek before pressing a soft, sweet kiss to your lips. “It’s only an hour to go and then I’m going to make you scream.”

An hour was a lifetime in the scale of an orgasmless month. 

“But I want to scream now, Nat. Fuck Tony and his stupid Dry July, he didn’t even finish it. Take me upstairs and fuck me. I need to feel your huge, hard dick in me, tearing me apart and making me see stars.”

You’re gifted the quintessential look of “you’re skating on thin ice and this look is going to stop you because you know I will make good on giving you a punishment” but that only spurs you on. Shifting yourself to straddle her on the plastic chair, you throw your arms around her neck and kiss her hungrily. 

“I will beg. Please don’t make me beg,” you plead, fingers trailing through her soft, summery hair and over her overheated, velvet skin.

“Honey,” she warns, her voice low and hushed, “you need to stop because you will not like the consequences. Believe me when I say I want nothing else than to satisfy you, but…”

Your groan is dramatic, the eye roll could be heard a mile away and your little storm-out will be talked about for weeks. Steve smirks in victory and high fives Bucky as Natasha follows you past the party-goers. 

Gripping your hand and pulling you into the quiet foyer of the compound, you find your back pressed against the window. The dark glint in emerald green eyes sends a delicious shiver down your spine. 

“Just thirty more minutes, it’s all I’m asking.” Her voice, thick like fresh salted caramel is heady and slowly pulls you into that subby little part of your brain. The fizzle of character only Nat can bring out of you. 

“No, Nat, I can’t. If you’re not going to help me out with my very big, life-threatening problem then I’m just going to take myself upstairs and fuck myself stupid with the purple toy. I’m not like you, I don’t have self-control or patience.”

Nat sighs and tenderly presses her lips against your forehead, the little firing nerves in your brain frying at the tenderness. You can see she’s trying to keep a handle on her wavering control. 

And then the words fall from your lips. “Please Daddy.”

It’s as though time stops. Well, the world around you slows, because Nat’s face is shifting and her breath hitches. The loud bass of the music drowns in the swell of white noise and your erratic heartbeat. 

“What did you say?” 

Oh god. You’ve fucked up. The Pandora’s box of secret kinks has been ripped open and like a weeping wound, beyond some major medicine, there’s nothing you can do to fix this or pry it shut. 

“I… I…” you barely manage to stutter, your flight instincts kicking in harder than Asgardian liquor. “Shit. Nat, I’m sorry, I…” A long finger pressing against your lips halts your panicky apology, green eyes studying the revolving door of emotions playing out on your face. 

“Tell me the truth, was that a slip of the tongue or is that something you would like to explore?”

An honest to god Yosemite Falls rush of arousal careens down your core and settles in your panties. The breath on your lips shudder and your knees nearly give out as painted red nails caress the curve of your waist. 

“I want to explore it like fucking Professor Pierre Aronnax. For months all I’ve been able to think about is you putting me over your knee and spanking me, punishing me until I’m walking funny.”

Nat hums deeply, the sound vibrating through her chest as she pins you tighter against the glass. “Is that right?” Her voice, molten lava, and liquid fire sending a firing squad to your core. “I have a confession to make. I’ve had many thoughts about you walking around here covered in my marks. The thought of having you call me daddy quietly in public where people might be able to hear is really turning me on right now.”

“Ms. Romanoff,” FRIDAY’s voice rings through the foyer, “there is still twenty-five minutes remaining in Dry July.”

Grassy eyes trail to the slight wobble of your lip before perfectly rouge lips claim yours. “Get your ass upstairs, baby.” 

You can’t help the excited squeal that escapes from your lips as Natasha grabs your hand and pulls you to the elevator. Backing you into the waiting elevator car, she is on you the second your back hits the glass wall. Dominating hands grip your face as she controls the starved kiss, seating her thigh between your legs. 

“Rub off on Daddy’s thigh, sweetheart,” the gorgeous blonde coos darkly in your ear, her hands descending your back and coming to rest on your ass. Only too eager to please and be pleased, you rock your hips, grinding your sopping clothed cunt on her jeans. The pressure is fucking perfect and the salacious moan escaping your lips earns you a chuckle. “That’s good, sweetheart, rub that pretty cunt on Daddy’s thigh. You’re soaked.”

The gentle pull into the pillow-laden sub-section of your brain is less of a gentle pull and more of a fucking tug. You can only think of making her proud, doing as you’re told, and oh god the feeling of her hands cupping your face and watching you intently as you ride her thigh…

You can sense the slight ascension to that soul drop, the Big O you’ve been desperately trying to forget you need for an entire month, only to whine as Nat pulls away from you.

“So impatient,” she teases before pulling you out of the elevator car and into the private living quarter hall and towards the small apartment you have been sharing for the past six months. Your little home at work. Stopping at the cherry red door, you practically dance on the spot with impatience as Nat presses her hand against the security lock, the door swinging open for you both. 

Your nerves sing wildly with excitement as the blonde leads you through the apartment and towards the bedroom with a sultry sway in her hips. You could explode right there and then as she gives you a heated smirk before stopping you at the foot of the bed. Perching herself on the edge of the bed, Nat spreads her legs wide and leans back on her forearms. 

“Strip for Daddy.”

The subby fog in your brain only thickens as your fingers fight with the buttons on your shorts, Nat’s pupils expand as she catches her bottom lip between her teeth. At least five receptors in your brain malfunction as her fingers delve beneath her jeans. 

The denim pools at your feet and your blood boils impatiently as she hums appreciatively. 

“Very pretty, baby.” 

The matching silk boyleg panties stop short at the underside of your ass, creamy against your skin, and moist with your arousal. Careful to step out of the shorts as gracefully as you can, it’s hard to tear your eyes away from the movement of Nat’s hand under her jeans. Stripping off the silky garments you wait for your next instruction, your chest heaving with excitement. 

With a smirk on her lips, Nat stands tall and slowly starts to strip. You fight back the temptation to run your hands over her honey skin, taste the sweet nectar that is quintessential Black Widow. Finally naked, the blonde resumes her position on the bed, drawing you onto her lap. 

“What do you need from Daddy?” Nat hums as she draws her fingers through your damp folds. “Do you need to come?” Your desperation is so high, so great, you can barely breathe or speak.

“Five minutes remaining, Ms. Romanoff,” FRIDAY sounds, his voice echoing through the room. 

You gasp as Nat draws her middle finger over your hypersensitive, about-to-burst clit and your hands claw at her soft blonde curls. 

“Think you can be a good girl for Daddy and let me play with you for the next five minutes before you come?” Nat asks as she grasps your face with her other hand, her finger languidly caressing your clit. “Hmmm, you’re soaked sweetheart, incredibly needy. Gagging for it.”

You’re already close, a month’s worth of pent up sexual frustration and unfulfilled desires bubbling at the surface. The hum of white noise builds in tandem with the waves of pleasure as you clench your fingers tightly through her curled bob. “Fuck Daddy, please I’m so close. Please please,” you beg unashamedly. 

“Two minutes…”

“Shut the fuck up FRIDAY,” you scream into the nothing of the room. “I’m so close, oh god please Daddy.”

“Sergeant Barnes has been disqualified,” FRIDAY announces abruptly, “and Captain Rogers would like me to tell you, Ms. Romanoff, that he looks forward to gloating his victory.”

Just as you toe the precipice of what will be the most mind-blowing and easy to come to orgasm imaginable, Natasha pulls away her fingers abruptly. You wail like a banshee, thrown back violently from the delightful plunge into orgasm land. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” Natasha coos, pressing soft kisses on your neck and breasts, “I’m not losing to that virgin.” 

Grieving the loss of what was possibly going to be the greatest orgasm of your life, you hurl yourself into her, wrapping your arms around her neck and pathetically grind your wanton pussy on her naked thigh. It offers little comfort or release and you are quick to shove your fingers between your legs.

“Please, Daddy, touch me,” you cry as Nat bats your hands away from your clit and eases her fingers into your cunt. It’s like you’ve never been touched before, your walls greedily tight around her, sensitive nerves frayed and vibrating.

“You are so tight, baby,” Nat huskily teases as she draws her thumb over your needy clit. “Maybe we should do this more often, put a ban on your orgasms, keep you nice and tight for me.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you snarl, your eyes fixated on the thumb languidly fondling your desperate jewel. “I will die if I can’t come. Die, Nat. Actually explode and…”

“Thirty seconds.”

“Fuck off, FRIDAY,” you cry as Nat grips your hair in her hand and starts to fuck your hard with her fingers. “Please, Daddy, please…” Barrelling towards the precipice, yes, finally the mind blowing orgasm in sight you smile. “Yes, so good…” Actual tears run down your face as Nat wrenches her fingers from you, the orgasm once again taken away from you. “For fucks sake, I hate…”

Dragging your face to meet hers, Nat smiles lazily. “Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen…” The overwhelming feeling of full returns as she once again fucks you with intention. “That’s it, baby, you feel so good on my fingers. Clench around me, we are almost there.” You obediently tighten your walls around her fingers. “Five, four, three, two, one…”

The light is blinding, the air literally sucked from your lungs as you crash headfirst into your orgasm. A month of pent-up horniness and desperation finally placated as you clamp against the magical fingers buried deep in your cunt. Nat holds you tightly as you ride the rocky waves of your pleasure, the dams breaking as you collapse. 

It is intense and overwhelming. 

“Captain Rogers has forfeited, Ms. Romanoff, you are officially the winner of Dry July.”

“Was it worth the wait, baby?” Nat hums, laying you out on the bed and pressing tender kisses to your neck and shoulders. 

“Fuck yes,” you croak, “all the yes. I think I nearly died coming.”

The blonde beauty chuckles, taking your hand and pressing your fingers against the sopping juncture of her thighs. “Well, I hope you have more in you because we have an entire month to make up for.”

Fuck yeah you have more in you. 

Still hazy and your head a raucous party from the literal mind-blowing orgasm, you allow Nat to turn you around and settle your back against her chest as you both kneel on the bed. Snaking your arm behind you, your fingers settle at the juncture of her thighs. 

“That’s so nice, baby,” the blonde humid against your ear as you both tease each other’s clits. “I missed this. I missed you.”

Your breath shutters because Nat’s fingers are literal magic. “I missed you,” you whimper against her touch. 

Sucking at the sensitive crook of your neck, her free hand squeezing your breast, Nat bucks into your fingers. “I’m sorry, my love, I won’t make you go through that again. And I am going to make this up to you because I have something special planned tonight.” Running her tongue along the line of your neck, she nips at your skin. “I’m going to treat my baby girl so good.”

Fuck, your body literally hums with anticipation as Nat instructs you to lay out on the bed, spread out wide and on display. You can hear your girlfriend pulling out things from underneath the bed. Toys, yes you love playtime with Natasha and her steely-focus and drive…

And then you see the strap on and you almost combust. Nat smirks as your eyes widen at the size of the brand new charcoal dildo and the hot pink vibrator sitting in her hand. Well shit, she wasn’t kidding and the purple toy is long forgotten.

Kneeling between your legs, the beautiful blonde languidly runs a hand over your body, whilst the other draws the vibrator, a personal favourite of yours, over your lips and mouth. 

“Wrap your arms around your thighs and keep yourself open wide for Daddy, baby,” Nat purrs delicately before switching on the vibrator and making you giggle. 

Her eyes are hungry, drawing over your stretched open cunt as you obediently tuck your arms around your thighs. You gasp as you feel the tip of her toy cock press into you, your walls fluttering for more. Taut fingers squeeze the flesh of your thighs as the toy slowly and torturously drags along your walls and a breathy gasp escapes your lips. 

Yes, fucking finally. After 31 agonizing days of torture and denial a missing piece is finally placed down to complete the jigsaw puzzle of your life. Because, unlike some people, you need sex. Especially when your girlfriend is the Black Widow.

Her pace is brutal, the month-long drought, and more hijacked orgasms than you can bear to think about finally broken. You know she will make good on her promise to make up for the excruciating lack of action in the bedroom. 

You howl like a wolf as the pink vibrator, buzzing with purpose, is pressed firmly against your still sensitive clit and the jolt is immediate. Nat chuckles as you buck against the vibrator, a particular favourite torture device, and she’s quick to pin you down in place.

If your first orgasm was like a detonated land mine, this one is an atomic bomb. Everything goes white as you clench tightly around the thick charcoal toy and you come harder than you have in your entire life. 

Three varying cock sizes, four failed attempts at the rodeo position and three hours later, you find yourself exhausted and literally fucked. Lying side by side, your chests heaving greedily for oxygen Nat links her fingers with yours and chuckles breathily. 

“I can’t believe we lasted 31 days without breaking.” Her voice is ragged and god damn it’s so hot. “I missed you, baby.”

Your eyes lock on soft green orbs and you smile languidly. “I missed you, too, Daddy,” you tease delicately, utterly ravaged and satisfied. You yelp as you suddenly find yourself pinned underneath your very naked girlfriend. 

“I don’t know about you, but I could go again. Call me Daddy.”

You chuckle and kiss her gently. “Nat, I can’t. I think you broke my vagina.”

The blonde smirks drawing her fingers through your hair. “Oh baby, that makes me very sad. Your poor vagina.” Your breath shutters as you suddenly feel lithe fingers inch over your damp folds. “I guess we should take a break then, let you rest and recuperate. It might be some time before we can play, I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself…”

The panic and reality of another month of no sex is too much. You kiss her with force and gusto, all teeth and tongue, shifting her onto her back and straddling her. “Oh look at that, I’m all cured.”

Your dreams of having the upper hand and acquiring some tiny modicum of control are utterly squashed as the blonde superhero picks you up and turns you 180 degrees and situates your hips above her face. 

Oh…. Hell yes you can get on board with this.

You take the initiative to dive in, lowering yourself and devouring her drenched lips. This is your favourite, okay definitely top five things to do with Nat. You can lose yourself for at least forty minutes, licking and suckling on each other in the late hours of the weekend morning. There’s a reason brunch exists. 

But this moment right now isn’t about the beautiful lazy morning oral marathon. With the promise of never putting your happiness after besting Steve Rogers again if you can make her come first, it’s frantic and desperate.

You hum as you feel the blonde drag her tongue over your folds and oh god it’s better than you remember. It’s so easy to get lost in the heady scent that is quintessentially Nat as you lap hungrily at each other. You concentrate on her taut clit, your focus clearly set on making her come first. 

She’s still sensitive from her last orgasm, the one she had screamed through as she had rubbed herself silly against the plane of your thigh as she had tortured you with the damn vibrator. Her breathy mewls are warm against your damp folds and god it makes you run hot.

By the skin of your teeth Nat comes with a cry before you join her, your thighs quaking as your orgasm rocks your entire body to its core.

Sleep is easy to come by that night, the warm satiated feeling washing over you like heat from the afternoon summer sun. Finally content after thirty-fucking-one days of pure and utter torture.

The next morning there is a strange atmosphere at the breakfast table. Mostly Steve sitting at the far end with a suspicious red hue to his cheeks and unable to make eye contact as he forcefully shoves twenty pancakes into his mouth. 

Beside you, Bucky is helping himself to another waffle and completely unperturbed by the smattering of love bites on his neck and chest. His cocky grin makes you giggle. 

“Why is Steve looking like a kid who got caught jacking off behind the school shed?” Nat asks with a smirk on her face. 

Bucky chuckles and leans back in his chair, resting his hands on his enviably flat stomach. “That’s because Steve got caught jacking off last night.” You can’t help but notice the blonde supersoldier sink further into his chair. “Your room isn’t as soundproof as you think, Widow.”

Nat smirks and takes a languid sip of her coffee. “Oh I know.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always welcome. My tumblr is https://imanuglywombat.tumblr.com


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